Why Did I Marry You
by Meridian31
Summary: "Why did I marry you?" - "It took a lot of convincing." / Drabble. One-Shot.


You liked a lot of the things that you did with Seth. You liked getting to fly to random cities in America, road-tripping between shows with him, living out of a suitcase for a few days. You liked sitting in the audience at a WWE show, or backstage if you felt less than social, to watch your husband do what he was so passionate about. You liked when he came home to you, spending a couple weekdays with you, though because you too held a job it was a still a coordinated affair.

But what you loved beyond measure, was when Seth had a random weekend off, or you took a day off from work during the week, where you both got to spend the entire day together. When neither of you had to set an alarm clock or had somewhere to run off to. When it was just an easy, lazy day around the house, where you just coexisted together, making plans right before they had to be made.

This was one such day. You had decided to take off from work, allowing you and Seth to sleep in, eventually get up for coffee, only to return back to bed. You stayed there for a while, cuddled, fought for ownership of the covers, talked, loved on the dogs, until eventually due to sheer hunger alone you had to get up for the day. After having what was basically brunch, wherein you almost ruined the toast, and Seth had kicked you out of the kitchen, you retired to the living room. He cued up a video game to play, while you curled up in the corner of the couch with a book. The dogs put themselves elsewhere in the room, content to sleep on their beds.

Seth decided to put on music through the stereo system in the house, as he played his sport's game and you read. It ended up being some playlist or station, you didn't know, of early 2000s music. It played a lot of the first albums of bands you had listened to in middle and high school. My Chemical Romance. Say Anything. New Found Glory. Something Corporate. Brand New.

He hummed along with most of the songs, occasionally singing lyrics. You tried to ignore it, focus on your reading, but sometimes he was just too loud, and downright off key, to ignore.

At a particularly poorly pitched rendition of Fall Out Boy, you outwardly cringed.

He noticed.

"What was that? Don't you like my singing?"

"I like your face," you replied, not taking your eyes from your book. "Isn't that enough?"

"Ouch, baby, _ouch_ ," he said, sounding comically wounded, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"You should just stick to looking pretty and wrestling," you advised. "Those are your strengths. Not singing."

"You just wait. When Dashboard Confessional comes on, oh baby, I am serenading the absolute **shit** out of you," he declared, sounding far too serious about his plan for your liking.

" _Why_ did I marry you?" You lamented, settling yourself back against the couch, propping the soles of your feet on the edge of the coffee table, putting your book against your knees.

"It took a lot of convincing," he acknowledged, glancing at you briefly from the video game on the TV. "Had to woo you first."

"Oh, is that what you call 2AM dates once a week to IHOP?"

"It's not my fault there's basically no good 24 hour places around here," Seth defended the date spot that had been the building ground for your relationship way back when.

You honestly didn't mind those memories, treasured them actually. Those late nights were where you genuinely got to know him, fall in love with him, and realized you _wanted_ to marry him. Any man that was on the road for most of the week, and his first thing to do when getting home was see you and take you out, was a man you wanted to keep around. Also, they had awesome hash browns at IHOP.

Your comment about it was simply because you enjoyed giving him a hard time about, well, anything you could.

"We should open a diner, for other people who need 24 hour food," you considered, looking over to him. Seth turned his head to look at you fully, his eyebrows raised, as the game screen loaded to a new point.

"You cannot be serious," he stated.

"Um, why not? Dude, we could like decorate all dark and mysterious," you plotted, swaying your hands in front of yourself, trying to appear 'spooky'. "But then like, play the most random listing of music possible. I'm talking, like, Slayer followed by Michael Bolton, followed by…oh! Followed by this," you pointed in to the air, indicating you meant the song that had just started playing in your house, an early Yellowcard song. Seth paused his game, turning his chest so he was facing you straight on.

"Baby, sweetheart, love of my life," he gently spoke, before switching to a firmer tone. "No."

"Man, you're no fun," you complained, crossing your arms over your chest. Even though you hadn't been entirely serious with your idea in the first place, you felt defensive about it now.

"I know," he assured you. "But you'll live with it. Ya gotta, ya married me."

"It's called divorce," you smarted off, giving him a short smirk.

"It's called, good luck with that," he laughed, turning back to his game, unpausing it. "I'll woo you outta divorce too."

"Oh yea?"

" _Hell_ _yea_."

"Well, if you're gonna do that, can we at least go to like, Waffle House? Ya know, switch it up a bit."

"Sure, baby. Whatever you want."

"Cool," you agreed, turning back to your book. "Hey, do you know how the hash browns are there?"


End file.
